


Trouble

by Skittles the Sugar Fairy (SkittlesFairy)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Chasing, M/M, Racing, Sexual Interfacing, Slight Aphrodisiac, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1404049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkittlesFairy/pseuds/Skittles%20the%20Sugar%20Fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the kinkmeme. </p><p>Sunstreaker plays a dangerous game of chase with Prowl. In the end he only sort of gets what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> This hasn't been edited, so if there are major flaws I apologize!

Routine maintenance.  
  
It wasn’t something that Sunstreaker normally shirked. He and his twin were both very good about keeping up with all of the medical and tedious sides of caring for their frames. They were highly tuned for war, and one little mishap could be all it took to extinguish one of their sparks.  
  
So. Maintenance.  
  
They usually went like good little soldiers. Usually being the operative word here. The trick was to show up and catch Ratchet’s attention while he was busy enough not to stop him himself. Which was were his blessed other half was at the moment. Sideswipe was currently under the CMO’s tender mercies and grinned widely when he saw his brother, which of course drew the Medic’s attention, as it was meant to.  
  
“You’re late.” Ratchet barked at him, not moving from where he was.  
  
“Che, you’re not finished with stupid there, how am I late?” Arguing was pointless and only served to help rile up the medic, which was again all part of the devious plan.  
  
“You _know_ I can’t finish his _or_ yours when you aren’t together! Now get your aft on this berth this click!” Ratchet snapped again, fed up with the twins already. Though that was due more to the trouble it was to get even half of the crew down for their regular checkups on a good day. Today had not been a good day.  
  
Sunstreaker folded his arms over his chest and made a show about thinking the order over. “Mmm... No.”  
  
“What was that?” Ratchet turned from the red twin on the berth beside him so that he could give the yellow one a look over, frown firmly on his face plates. The frown hid the concern though, the twins were always good about their checkups, so what was making Sunstreaker balk?  
  
“You heard me. I know you’re old Hatchet, but your hearing shouldn’t be going yet.” To help ensure the medic would be enraged into a right tizzy, he even smirked as he made a show of running his optics along the mostly white mech’s frame.  
  
Behind Ratchet, Sideswipe had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing. He could _feel_ the rage and frustration in the medic’s field. They really were going to end up as toasters if his brother was caught before their plan went off.  
  
Sunstreaker was about to mouth off again when he heard the footsteps of the mech whose maintenance was supposed to be next. He grinned widely and leaned back ever so slightly to make sure that it was the right person before he gave Ratchet a smarmy little two digit salute. He stepped back into the hallway and transformed quickly, peeling out the moment his tires touched the floor.  
  
“SUNSTREAKER! I sweat to _Primus!-_ ”  
  
The yellow mech didn’t catch the rest of it, counting on luck that this would go the way that he and Sideswipe had both planned on. He burned rubber out of the ARK, swerving wildly and spinning around sharply so that he could watch the entrance. Engine thrumming eagerly he held back the urge to just take off and go as fast as his frame would allow, keyed up already from the mere idea of the plan working.  
  
Left behind with the carnage of a Ratchet on the warpath, Sideswipe wisely ducked his helm but leaned over to watch with over bright optics. He bit his lips, forcing himself still as he waited, fingers crossed that this part went according to plan. Otherwise he and his brother were going to be in trouble for nothing.  
  
“That fragging war addled spawn of a glitch!” Ratchet swore up a storm from the doorway, tempted to go after the bit-brain himself. The perfect minion however was just coming up and he had every intention of using him. “Prowl!”  
  
Afore mentioned mech glanced over at the irate medic, a sense of unease filling him suddenly. He had just caught sight Sunstreaker taking off as if the spawn of Unicron himself were after his spark and things were starting to line up already. He’d been half-way to patching a line to Wheeljack to go retrieve the errant twin when Ratchet had spoken, drawing his full attention to the medic.  
  
“You’re off right now; go bring that slag-heap back so I can scan him before he gets tossed in the brig.” It was hard for the medic to keep the snarl out of his voice, but he managed it, if only barely.  
  
Oooh no. No no. That wouldn’t, no. “I was about to enlist Wheeljack, Mirage is currently on duty and Wheeljack is one of our-”  
  
The red and white mech cut the tactician off, waving a servo. “No. By the time Wheeljack gets out of his lab and outside Sunstreaker will be halfway to Nevada already. You’re here now, and fast enough to catch him. So go and catch him.” What little patience the CMO had had was quickly wearing away.  
  
Inwardly Prowl fumed. _He_ was not some errant foot soldier to be ordered around, and while torquing the other officer off wasn’t ideal, neither was dealing with the consequences of having to chase after one of the Autobots’ faster frames. Logically speaking though, Ratchet was right, which only served to infuriate him more. _Ratchet_ wasn’t the one who had to deal with the after effects of chasing a stubborn Lamborghini. He didn’t have a valid argument that he could voice and instead settled for giving the other mech a stiff look before he folded down into his alt-mode and took off.  
  
Sideswipe was practically leaning off of the med-berth to catch what was going on, optics wide and bright. Everything was going right! His face-plates were stretched into such a wide grin that they hurt.  
  
Ratchet turned and caught sight of the spectacle the red twin was making of himself and snarled wordlessly at him.  
  
The frontliner meeped softly to himself, grin turning into a wince. Yep, he was dead alright. **_Good luck bro._**  
  
Prowl swerved around the last corner and then out of the bay doors expecting to find a settling trail of dust. But since this was one of the twins, he should have known better than to go off of any expectations. So of course Sunstreaker was just idling there, as if he was _waiting_ to be chased. Which just served to rankle him even further. “ _Sunstreaker!”_  
  
Instead of replying the yellow warrior just flashed his headlights at the Enforcer as if he was winking at him, mocking him. Sunstreaker revved his engine, gunning it as he swung his aft end about and fish-tailed slightly as he took off. “What’s that Prowl? I can’t hear you over the sound of you eating my dust!”  
  
For a brief moment the white and black mech was completely gobsmacked by the sheer audacity of the warrior, and then old but no less relevant coding urged him to chase after the other. The only problem with giving into that particular line of coding was that it was tied very, very closely to the reward centres in his processor. In most Enforcers it gave them a high and left them giddy after, in Prowl... It made him run even hotter and drove him almost to glitching with the need to interface. But then again, he couldn’t just let the hellion get away with such flagrant disregard for the rules and safety....  
  
All of this was processed in an astro-second, leading the datsun to one option.  
  
 _Chase._  
  
He would undoubtedly regret this once he caught Sunstreaker, because now that he was committed to this, he _would_ catch the frontliner.  
  
For a moment his back tires just spun, dust and dirt flying before he lurched forward, rubber finally finding grip and launching him. He was going to make the yellow Lamborghini regret running when, not if, he caught him.  
  
Sunstreaker gunned his engine harder, forcing his sleek frame faster when he heard the powerful Enforcer’s engine rev behind him. In flat open space like this with a head start, even the small one he had, was more than enough for him to leave the other in a dust trail. But this wasn’t about getting away, no. He had every intention of leading the SIC on a merry chase before he allowed himself to be caught, because once he was caught, well... As long as Bluestreak hadn’t lied to them, he was very much looking forward to being caught.  
  
The golden coloured twin pushed his engine and frame hard, knowing he would need every inch of his lead. The road this far out and so close to the base was barren and thankfully dry, allowing him to rip along the highway. He ignored the pings on his comm., there was only two mechs he wanted to deal with right now and he didn’t dare distract himself. He banked hard, drifting around a corner and racing into the foothills.  
  
Prowl tried to catch the other on his comm. so he could at least get a _why_ from the stubborn, stupid frontliner. But noooo, that would be easy and logical, which was very much the exact opposite of the twins usual line of processing. So he pushed himself harder, feeling his frame shudder slightly from the force of following the Lamborghini around the bend. His plating was beginning to heat and all of his sensors were dialed up, feeding him extra information as well as beginning to tease him into arousal.  
  
They were heading into the foothills, which had a much more winding road, and that meant he could catch up to the other mech. Hopefully before the speed got to the SIC anymore. The miles that had already been devoured by their wheels were intoxicating to think about. He revved his engine again, the vibrations causing strut deep tingles.  
  
If it wasn’t for his coding letting him focus solely on his goal, Prowl would have moaned deeply. Wind rippled over his hood and he almost swerved from the sudden stimulation. He lurched forward to make up the lost space forcing his frame to its limits and then pushing past. Errors flagged up in his HUD, each quickly dismissed.  
  
Steam rose from beneath his hood and between his doors, seeking escape to try and help cool his burning frame. Closer and closer he pulled with every swerving curve of the road, his own greater maneuverability allowing him to inch closer and closer. He could see steam hissing off of Sunstreaker as well, the powerful engine of the warrior clearly heard even over his own.  
  
Finally he was close enough to touch the yellow twin’s bumper with his own and he forced himself that extra bit to push at the mech in front of him. He revved hard, snarling over the sound of their engines, furious and turned on at the same time. “Pull over Sunstreaker! I’ve caught up to you and I will force you off the road if I have to.” Off the road and right onto the rocky, unforgiving ground.  
  
Lurching slightly from the push and knowing he was caught, Sunstreaker slowed down and came up parallel with the black and white mech. Instead of speaking, which was never his strong suit to begin with; he angled himself and pulled over quickly and suddenly. This would be a better spot to stop than driving on and testing the Enforcer’s temper more.  
  
Now that he had gotten close, Prowl could feel the heat pouring off of the other’s, also speed strained frame. So he wasn’t too shocked that once the unruly gold twin actually pulled over, he transformed back to root mode. What _was_ a surprise was the smirk and the warrior proceeding to bolt on foot. Heat addled and systems strained it took him a moment to comprehend what was happening. Thankfully his processors caught up and he was quickly shifting and transforming, pushing himself up almost acrobatically to follow after the yellow menace.  
  
He was thankful that Sunstreaker wasn’t paying attention to him so the first almost wobbly steps went unnoticed. His spike was pressing uncomfortably up against his panel and his valve was just as desperate, lubricant pooling against the cover. Running was uncomfortable and at this point he was ready to just lay down and start self-servicing but he was too proud for that. That, and he was so very, very close to close to catching the frontliner completely. He’d already caught up to him once, a second time wasn’t going to be that much more difficult.  
  
Sunstreaker came up short, an almost sheer wall of rock stopping him from proceeding. His lead gave him enough time to muse over how to go about the next phase of the plan, so he turned and waited for the Enforcer to catch up to him, plating and armour spread wide while his fans and vents worked over time to try and cool him. He saw the other mech come around the corner and despite not being overly religious, murmured a small hopeful prayer to Primus.  
  
When Prowl came around the almost sharp lines of shale and rock he wasn’t expecting the warrior to be _right_ fragging there. There was a moment were he almost flailed ungainly but managed to save himself at the last moment, though there was still a wobble from stopping so short. He didn’t fall flat on his faceplates, that was the important part. And so was the part that there was nowhere else for the golden twin to run.  
  
He’d done it. He’d caught the Unicron spawn. The chase was over. He’d _won_.  
  
...Slag, he’d won.  
  
That meant dealing with Sunstreaker. That meant _touching_ Sunstreaker. Touching him and wrestling him to the ground so he could – Oh merciful Primus, he would never make it that far. His frame was already burning, the need overwhelming now that he had caught his prey. And he knew exactly what he would do if he touched the other Autobot. He didn’t want to do that to anyone, ever. Suddenly, everything felt so much more strained and overwhelming. There was no way to deal with the end burn from the race like chase. Frag. His processors stalled, trying to think of an outcome that would end well, but nothing, absolutely nothing was coming to bare.  
  
Sunstreaker could see the strain in the old Enforcer’s frame, the length and speed of the chase had been intense and he was feeling it himself as well. But the other had frozen up in a way that was almost reminiscent of Prowl’s processors locking up over something. Totally and completely opposite of what he wanted.  
  
Well, time to fall back on what he knew. He crouched, knowing he was a brig-bound mech already so why not just finish it off with a little assaulting a superior officer? He waited a moment, and then, lunged.  
  
As much as Prowl’s processors were struggling to find a viable solution to the lovely mess he found himself in, his Battle Computer was working juuuust fine. The results being that the movement of the yellow twin, based on past experiences and current perceived mood was deemed a threat. The aggressive and sometimes difficult to work with sub-processor jumped queue on his other thoughts, frame moving in reaction before the rest of his processors could fully catch up.  
  
The heavy and fully trained warrior was snatched out of the air before he could even make contact with the smaller, but dense white and black frame. Prowl twisted almost artfully, flipping and planting Sunstreaker firmly on his back plates. Unfortunately the move placed him bent over the trouble-maker, servos gripping onto golden armor. He stared at the mech that was now below him, vents somehow managing to work even harder. He licked his lips and wasn’t able to stop himself from rubbing his servos out across smooth and lustrous chest plates.  
  
No, he shouldn’t be touching his subordinate like this...  
  
But the want was so strong. The _need_ was overpowering... He shuddered on top of Sunstreaker, gripping his armour once more as he fought the urge to do more than what he already had. This was wrong. He had to make himself let go... He could go hide in a valley somewhere and self-service until he collapsed. Yes, that would fix this. Or at least prevent him from raping the yellow twin. Because he was very, very close to having his processors just shut down from the flood of desire.  
  
Sunstreaker was frozen under the comforting weight of his superior officer. His optics were wide and bright as he struggled to act. He had the black and white mech right where he wanted him, he was on top of him, _touching_ him!  
  
Prowl pushed himself up slowly, not trusting his frame anymore. “Sunstreaker... I apologize profusely.” This was beyond inappropriate. “I-”  
  
The gold mech was so much better at actions than words, but sometimes you needed to speak up. He shifted his hip joints a little, spreading his legs and bringing up a pede and hooking it over the other’s hip armour. “Prowl... You caught me.” Words failed him again and he found himself staring off mulishly to the side. Maybe it wasn’t that the SIC was so uptight, maybe the problem was with who he had caught.  
  
The unsaid implications boggled what was left of his running processors and Prowl was unable to reply for a solid moment. The heat of the powerful frame beneath him was all the closer with the warrior’s leg pulling him in, pelvic plating flush with each other. He wanted, oh he wanted. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to throw himself down to the ground and beg to be ravished? But no, that stung at his pride and his coding. _He_ had won. His spike straining against its cover was NOT helping his decision making process either. The turned head though... Did the surly twin think that he would force him?  
  
Even as revved and needy as he was now, the very thought of that turned his tanks and cooled his systems slightly. “Sunstreaker...” The twin’s name was said softly, imploringly. “What do you want?” He was unable to stop himself from running a servo down the leg hooking him in place.  
  
The delicate, needy way his name was said made the frontliner jerk his head back and look back up into bright cerulean optics. He’d _expected_ to be pushed down and ravished. This... this asking for permission was _hot_ as slag. “This, you. Please.” His words were short and clipped but full of desire.  
  
That was all Prowl needed. He leaned in, stretching his frame over the warrior’s so that he could kiss him. Lips clashed and servos roamed now that he was free. He moaned, gripping the larger mech tightly. Everything that he had pushed aside came flooding back and he was almost helpless under the desire, the _need_. “Yessss.”  
  
With their frames already pressed so close together it was easy to grind down against the yellow twin’s hot frame. Panels rubbed against each other, sparks and charge danced along their lines encouraging them to continue. “Sunstreaker.” It was a plea as much as a reverent prayer. They’d barely begun, but he already wanted more.  
  
This wasn’t anything like what he’d been expecting and it made Sunstreaker moan, long and low as he bucked against the grinding motion that the Enforcer offered. His paint was going to be ruined but for once that was one of the farthest things in his mind. He responded in kind to the way his name was said, the panel over his interfacing components sliding back. It had never moved so fast, he’d never wanted someone so much. He rocked, trying to urge the other to open his panel as well.  
  
The warrior found himself enough to start touching back fully, running his hands along the transformation seams that he could see. He traced along white and black paint lines, drinking in the sounds that came out of his superior officer’s vocals. He rubbed at headlights, forgoing the typical urge to touch the door-wings. Sunstreaker turned his helm enough to start up another passionate kiss.  
  
He felt it when the twin’s panel slid back, a gloriously thick spike sliding out to be trapped between their hot plating. The enforcer returned the heated kiss and groaned into it appreciatively as he was caressed. In return he slid the servo that had rested on the warrior’s leg inwards, tweaking any lines he came across as he went straight for the black spike and the weeping valve beneath it.  
  
Prowl was too revved up, too hot and keyed up from the chase and capture to drag this out. He wanted the mech beneath him on his spike or inside him. He wanted it _now_. The servo that had wandered ran dutiful digits along the other’s spike, and he grinned when the mild attention to it caused the mech attached to whine and buck up. Letting go of the spike he turned his servo lower and pressed a single digit and then quickly a second into the golden warrior’s dripping valve.  
  
The Lamborghini arched under the heavier mech, groaning loudly. He rocked, trying to drive the fingers deeper inside, whimpering as they stroked only briefly before pulling free. “Prowl, Prowl, _please_.” Sunstreaker had never thought of himself begging to be fragged, but despite how fast this was all going it wasn’t going fast enough.  
  
Prowl thrust his fingers briefly, stroking the walls of the slick and ready valve. He pulled his digits free so he could lift the warrior’s other leg; his own panel sliding back finally. He was venting hard, his frame shaking from the strain of holding back even this long. As his spike pressurized what little control he’d managed to cling to finally shattered. He rocked his spike against the other’s, red and black sliding and rocking before he shifted back enough to line their arrays together better.  
  
Armour quivered and the yellow twin sought out his superior officer’s optics, ventilations loud and hard. Legs spread and vents gasping he knew he was a sight, in a position and way that he didn’t usually allow himself. But for this superior officer, for this particular mech he would do anything. They’d both been fairly quiet during this affair but when Prowl’s spike started pressing into his valve that was the end of it. “Nnnnn, yes, yes, Prowl, more!”  
  
The black and white mech slid his spike into the squeezing heat in one smooth stroke, the words coming from Sunsteaker’s vocalizer making it hard to concentrate and not just start thrusting away. He could feel the valve fluctuate and squeeze him, the tight hot feeling too much. Pleasure zinged along his lines and he rocked his hips back and forth wanting to make sure that his soldier was ready.  
  
Prowl clutched the golden legs around his waist and thrust back fully into the willing mech underneath him. He rocked his hips for a moment, experimenting with the range of motion he had before letting loose completely. His charge was high and he could feel that his soldier’s was as well, neither of them was going to be drawing this out. He pistoned his hips, spike dragging over charged sensors, each motion earning him a cry of pleasure and plea for more from the golden twin.  
  
Pleasure sang through his circuits, building higher and higher. Sunstreaker writhed into the motions as best he could, each twist making his trapped spike slide and rub between their frames. He lost track of what he said, moaning and pleading desperately. He was so very, very close already that when the SIC suddenly slowed and thrust particularly hard and deep he was tossed over the edge into overload.  
  
Charge crackled over the frame beneath him and Prowl worked his hips as fast and hard as he could manage. The hot valve tightened and spasmed around his spike, the extra stimulation bringing about his own overload. He was quiet in his own overload, transfluid spilling into the valve and leaking out as he thrust slowly and languidly, earning a second, smaller overload in the prone warrior.  
  
Overload brought clarity and Prowl stiffened slightly as he began to comprehend what he had done. Sunstreaker was still beneath him, armour rattling slightly from the strain to the systems underneath. Their ventilations and cooling fans were both loud, metal pinging as the air started to help lower their temperature as well.  
  
The idea of what had just transgressed between the two of them made the black and white mech’s processors spin. His soldier had agreed yes, pleaded for this, but he had still taken advantage of him. He was the superior officer and _he_ knew better. He knew not to fraternize with those below him. Yet the high from racing and chasing after the twin had driven him almost to a point of almost madness.  
  
Sunstreaker shook slightly still, his interfacing equipment primed for another round despite his frame being ready to recharge. The look on the datsun’s face plates said it was confession time though. He reached up, carefully cupping strong servos over smooth cheek arches. He turned the other’s helm and leaned up, delicately pressing their lips together. It was gentle and soft, a physical reminder that he had wanted this.  
  
“Prowl.” Okay, he could do this. Sideswipe would do SO much better with words but they had decided against the red warrior on the off chance that their SIC would think this an elaborate prank. He could do this. He _would_ do this. He vented and made sure that their optics were locked as he spoke up.  
  
“Prowl. You didn’t do anything wrong – No, let me finish. You didn’t. I wanted this. I wanted _you_. Like this. Us.” Nope, words weren’t working again and he reached across his bond to his brother for reassurance, which was quickly and fondly given. “We – I like you. A lot, okay? Enough to try and get your attention... Which didn’t really work. We – I’m just a grunt, a front line soldier doomed to die before the end of the war. And I wanted... I wanted something, wanted you. You make us feel like I’m worthy of something. But nothing we did got your attention the way you wanted. But when we heard that racing really cranks your gears and I hoped that maybe it wasn’t us that was the problem, that maybe you just didn’t notice or get it, so... This.” His glossa darted out over his lip plates nervously before he continued on with his confession. “We trust you. We _like_ you... We _want_ you. Sideswipe and I...”  
  
Prowl couldn’t do more than stare into the bright optics of one of his most fearsome soldiers. The fear of being rejected, unwanted was clear on smooth and beautiful grey face plates. The idea that all of this had been masterminded solely to get under his plating was boggling, but not beyond some of the things he had seen the twins plan. No, the idea that he was desired in such a manner was what really threw him for a loop. It wasn’t that he had never been interested in interfacing just that once the war had picked up so heavily there hadn’t really been time to pursue such interests and he had abstained. “Sunstreaker....”  
  
The twin could hear the ‘no’ in the other’s voice and it crushed his spark. He grit his denta together and turned his helm away. He didn’t want to see the rejection on top of having to hear it. “I just... Nevermind.” His voice betrayed his feelings of defeat and he refused to acknowledge the black and white mech as Prowl pushed away from him, shifting and shuffling along until he was sitting next to him.  
  
“Sunstreaker. Such... such a relationship would be unwise.” His own spark twisted at the look that graced the others face. “I am a target, as such you and your brother would be even more so.  
  
That is of course, completely disregarding the fact that you both are my subordinates.” He stretched an arm over, brushing his servo delicately over one of the helm vents. “You are a very attractive mech. I’m sure you could have anyone you wanted in your berth.”  
  
Sunstreaker jerked his helm out of reach and rolled onto his side, standing quickly. He closed his interfacing panel and stepped away from the other mech. “I don’t want anyone else. I want _you_.” He shook his helm and growled, servos balling into fists at his sides before he folded down quickly into his alt mode and spun off, not caring about the plants and rocks pulling and scratching at his undercarriage. He couldn’t do this. He had to get away.  
  
Prowl let him go, cradling his helm in his servos. The sense of guilt was overwhelming. He shouldn’t have interfaced with the younger mech, shouldn’t have given him hope like that. Once he was sure that the upset twin was long gone he stood as well and walked his sorry frame back to the road and transformed to begin the long drive home.


End file.
